Sugar & Spice (27 page)

124

Ceri stepped in to break the tension. “What Danny’s saying, Matt, is that
Uncle Tom may be deliberately emulating the MO of other killers.”
“So how many ways can there be to strangle somebody?”
“Loads. There’s ligature , there’s manual, there’s -”
“It was a rhetorical question, Danny.”
Danny hesitated, unsure what rhetorical meant. “Anyway, I reckon Uncle Tom is
copying the method used by the Railway Rapist, John Duffy, just as he appears to
have copied Robert Black.”
“And why would he do that?” If the kid wanted to debate in the adult league
he’d make him sweat for it.
“I reckon he’s studied these sorts of crimes and is selecting methods and
ideas from his idols. He wants his own place in criminal history.”
Matt turned to Ceri. “Are we taking this seriously?”
“Sure. I’ll go with it. The calling cards are a sure sign he wants
publicity.”
“Then there’s my combo theory,” said Danny.
“Your what?” asked Matt and Ceri in unison.
“My combo theory. That it’s a bloke and a woman together. You know, a
modern-day Brady and Hindley, or Fred and Rosemary.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Matt retorted.
Ceri was more welcoming to the proposal. “You know something?”
“Not really sure. There was a case a few months ago where a woman lured a
child into a white van. A little girl. She wasn’t killed or anything. Just
indecently assaulted. It hardly rated a mention in the press. I suppose I
remembered it because it was unusual, having a woman involved. I mean, sure,
woman molest children. Look at that nursery worker. But it struck me as unusual.
Sex attacks by women don’t usually take place at the roadside.”
“I like it, Danny,” Ceri said, shaking her hair loose, sending it cascading
down over her shoulders. Danny’s eyes lit up. He’d hardly taken his eyes off her
this past ten minutes. A fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed by Matt.
Danny asked, “Do you think he’s trophy hunting?”
“It’s a safe bet. All the girls so far have had items of clothing missing.
Including the girl in the boot of the car.”
Matt said, “If you mean he’s got a fetish about little girls’ knickers, just
come out and say so.”
“No, a fetish is something different, Matt.”
“Don’t you know anything?” Danny grinned at his senior. Matt glowered back.
He was way out of his league.
“The funniest one I ever came across was the Panty Bandit in America,” said
Danny, slipping into the conversation as if he always discussed such subjects
with his guests. “Bruce Lyons, back in, what, eighty-eight? Eighty-nine?”
“Eighty-eight,” Ceri said.
“He held up lingerie shops at gun-point, ordered the female staff and
customers to take their shreddies off, then he’d toss himself off in front of
them!”
Matt couldn’t hide a smile.
“Trophy hunting is different,” Ceri said. “It fulfils a basic instinct of
man, going back to the days of hunter-gatherers. The need to hunt for food and
sexual conquest.”
“Like Robert Hanson in Alaska,” Danny added. “He was a big game hunter who
kidnapped women, stripped them and sent them out into the wilderness, just so he
could hunt them down and kill them.”
“Oh, come on, Danny,” Matt protested. Danny reached for his folders.
“Okay, I believe you!”
Ceri said, “As I see it, Uncle Tom’s retention of some of his victim’s
clothing meets two needs. It serves as a physical trophy of the assault, and it
will act as a sexual stimulus for re-enacting the event in fantasy, possibly to
psyche himself up for the next attack.”
As Matt furiously scribbled short-hand notes the conversation slowly became a
duel between Ceri and Danny, both determined to outdo each other with some
obscure true-crime revelation. It was obvious he’s learned all he was going to
about Uncle Tom.
“I’m off to Cafe Nero,” Matt stated. “Anyone care to join me?”
Danny and Ceri were too engrossed even to answer.
Matt left them to it.

125

The traffic to Huddersfield was heavy, the conversation with the taxi driver a
chore. The imperfect Scottish accent wavered occasionally but the Yorkshire born
driver would never have noticed anyway. Stopping deliberately short of his
destination, he paid the driver with a respectable, but not overly generous tip.
Too little or too much might cause the driver to remember more than he needed
to.
Minutes later Jacob’s wiry frame confronted him with a gold-toothed smile. “No
trouble today, my friend. We understand each other?”
“You’ve got the goods?”
“She’s upstairs.”
“How old?”
“Eleven.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“On my mother’s grave.”
“Fuck your mother, Jacob. What’s the girl like?”
“How should I know? You think I try out the merchandise myself first? She’s
pure as the driven snow. Untouched by human hands.”
“You’d better hope so, Jacob. For both your sakes.”
Jacob stepped forward, his hand outstretched. “Another fifty today, my friend.
This girl is special.”
“What?”
“Another fifty. Have you any idea how hard it is to find a virgin her age in
this area? Kids today, they’re at it before they’re out of nappies. I tell you,
it’s a national disgrace. It would never have happened in my day.”

126

The girl sat on the bed, nervously twisting her waist-length black hair around
her fingers. She backed away, intimidated by the huge figure in the doorway.
A smile spread across his face as he saw her. For once Jacob hadn’t let him
down.
The girl said her name was Rhoda. He believed her. She said she’s just turned
eleven, three weeks ago. He could tell that too. The long hair fell across
rounded shoulders and a loose fitting blouse that hid a body yet to succumb to
puberty. The pleated skirt and white ankle socks completed the picture of
innocence. He allowed paternal instincts to take over, a comforting, friendly
voice and gentle gestures to put her at ease.
“This is your first time?” He sat on the bed beside her, gently putting an
arm around her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you. Just hold my hand a
while. Let’s talk first.”
She reluctantly slipped her tiny hand into his and felt his thick, heavy fingers
gently wrap around hers. He reached his other hand to her knee.
“Nervous?” His tone was quiet. Reassuring. “Just relax. You’ll enjoy it
more that way.” He stroked her arm. “So what’s it like being eleven,
Rhoda?”
She answered in whispers. “Okay.”
“Better than ten?”
She shrugged nervously. Casual conversation wasn’t on her mind just now. She
just wanted to get it over and done with. To go back home, to play with her
dolls.
“Do you enjoy school?”
She nodded cautiously.
“Is this your school skirt?” He put his hand on the hem, letting his thumb
rub against her thigh, getting her used to his touch. “You’ve got lovely
hair.” He ran his fingers through it, savouring the silky texture. “Have you
got any sisters?”
“One”
“Younger than you?
She shook her head.
“Shame. We could have had a threesome next time.” He tapped his wallet.
“Maybe I’ll leave you something extra afterwards.” He reached over and began
unbuttoning her blouse. She forced herself to keep still. Her sister had
explained what would happen. “How much are they paying you?”
“I don’t get paid.”
He slipped the second button. “Is that right? Who says so?”
“My Daddy.”
“Your Daddy? He knows you’re here?” He shook his head in disbelief. How low
can you get?
“So who’s your Daddy? He sounds like a really nice man.”
“He’s downstairs. His name is Jacob.”

127

“Matt, it’s Ceri. Can you call me back? I’m almost out of credit.”
Matt fumbled with the bedside lamp. “One sec’.” Still half-asleep he hit
the return-call button. “Are you okay? Where are you?”
“At my flat.”
“What’s happened?”
“Happened? Nothing. I’ve just had an idea, that’s all.”
Matt stared at the clock in disbelief. “Well that’s okay then. There was me
thinking you’d woke me up at two in the morning because it was something
urgent.”
“Two? Matt, I’m so sorry. Lost all track of time. I didn’t realise.”
He swore beneath his breath. “It’s okay. What’s on your mind?”
“It’s about Rebecca.”
He swung his legs out of bed, reaching for his jotter. “I’m listening.”
“Was Rebecca a Type-1 diabetic?”
Matt shrugged. “Something like that. Claire could tell you for sure.”
“I don’t want to worry her. It may be nothing.”
“You woke me up in the middle of the night just to ask that?”
“Matt, I’m sorry. It’s just that… Never mind. I’ll call Claire tomorrow.
Good night.”
The line went dead. Matt nearly pressed redial, then looked again at the clock.
Whatever it was, it could wait.

128

Randall reached out across Bethan’s stirring body to extinguish the alarm,
gently brushing her hair with his hand, soothing her back to sleep.
An IT course in London, he’d told her.
Out early, back late.
He showered and dressed quietly,no appetite for breakfast.
He stole into the children’s bedroom. The Dynamite Twins were asleep together in
the one bed. They had separate beds they were tucked into each night, but
without fail they would be found in just the one by morning.
It had been a tiring evening for the Twins. Their grandmother had made their
Halloween costumes and the Twins were adamant Daddy had to take them. Bethan was
on late shift anyway.
As the evening drew on exhaustion took its toll. Arriving home late the girls
had foregone their customary bath night and been put straight to bed with a hot
chocolate each, as much for their father’s sake as theirs. He hoped they hadn’t
caught his cold.
He kissed the Twins each on the forehead as he left the room.
“Love you both,” he said softly. “Always. No matter what.”
His hands were trembling as he closed the front door behind him.

129

Matt awoke to a knock at the door and wandered through in his dressing gown to
be met by Danny. He scowled at his young visitor but opened the door wider in
reluctant invitation.
“I thought we agreed you didn’t come here.”
“You were supposed to have been at Cafe Nero an hour ago.”
Matt glanced at the clock. “Shit! Sorry. I overslept. Put some coffee on while
I get dressed.”
Danny was happy to oblige. Getting invited into Matt’s apartment was no mean
feat. By the time his host had washed, shaved and dressed the coffee was
steaming in the mugs.
“You need an espresso machine,” Danny said.
“Nescafe is fine at home. If you want proper coffee, go to Cafe Nero.”
“I did. You weren’t there.”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“Did the cops tell you what they were planning?”
“Danny, the last person the police will tell anything to is me. I’m a
journalist. We have a special relationship where the exchange of information is
concerned. All one way.”
“They gave you the Dunst report.”
“That was a very special favour. My contact put his job on the line. I can’t
ask him to do that again.”
“But they’re following through on our theory, right?”
“Strictly off the record, yes. They’re targeting the locations on the list.
But that’s all I know, Danny. Honestly.”
Danny looked doubtful. “So how come you were still in bed?”
“A disturbed night. Ceri rang me up at two o’clock this morning.”
“You lucky dog! What did she want?”
“Nothing important, I promise you.”
“Like?”
“Well actually she asked what type of diabetic Rebecca had been.”
“And then what?”
Matt shrugged. “That was it.”
“She rang you up in the middle of the night just to ask that?”
“The female mind is a mystery to us all, Danny. You’ll realise that as you
get older.”
“She’s cool, ain’t she?”
“Who?”
“Ceri.”
“I guess so.”
“I bet you’ve had your eye on her.”
“Danny, she’s twenty years my junior. Just a kid.”
“She’s nineteen. Nearly twenty. That’s ancient! Mind you, I’d give her one.”
“One what?”
Danny grinned sheepishly.
“Danny, you’re fourteen. You should be chasing girls your own age, not grown
women.”
“She was just a kid five seconds ago.”
“She is. To me.”
“You sound like my gramps.”
“How’s the world of cyber-crime?”
“Promising.”
“Glad to hear it. Any juicy gossip from the underworld for me?”
“You wish.”
“Well you’d better get your ear to the ground, partner, else once they’ve put
Uncle Tom away I’m not going to have much use for your services.”
“You’re gonna fire me?”
“Think of it as redundancy.”
“They might not catch him.”
Matt sipped his coffee. “They will.”
“You don’t sound very convinced.”
“Think positive, Danny. It’s half the battle.”
“You realise most killers are caught by accident, not fancy detective work.”

“Danny, can’t you talk about anything else?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Anything.”
“Let’s talk about Ceri.”
Matt grinned. “You really like her, don’t you?”
Danny blushed. “I think I’m in love.”

130

Molly led him through to the lounge where, to his ill-disguised dismay, Ruth
Reynolds greeted him with her usual fixed smile. Dr. Quinlan, she explained, had
been called away on urgent business.
“You may actually find it easier with a woman, Greg,” she finished lamely.
“Some people do, you know.”
Randall’s stony silence made it clear he was not one of them.
“Would you like something before we start? Coffee? Something stronger?”
“Please, Dr Reynolds, can we just get this over with?”
“As you wish, Greg. If you’d like to come through. Did Dr. Quinlan tell you
the procedure? Never mind, I’ll explain as you get changed.”
“Changed?”
He was led down several anonymous corridors. Reynolds stopped at a door
distinguished from the others only by its number and swiped a card, gesturing
for him to enter. One wall was lined with screens and monitors, a reclining
chair before them.
“The bathroom’s there, Greg. Toilet and changing facilities, and a shower for
afterwards. You’ll find a clinical gown on the peg. If you’d change into that,
with the opening to the front, please. I’ll get things ready here.”
“Take off everything?”
“You can keep your socks on if you wish. Men tend to. It’s not your feet we’re
interested in now, is it? I need access to your chest and genitals.” She
looked him up and down. “Well come on, Greg. You said you wanted to get it
over and done with. Or have you changed your mind about that drink?”
He pulled the door shut and began tentatively removing his clothes.
“If you need the toilet, I suggest you go now. We don’t want to interrupt the
session if we can avoid it. I presume Dr Quinlan explained to you the need to
refrain from any form of sexual activity prior to the therapy?
Feebly, “Yes.”
“So when did you last have sex?”
He hated these questions. “A few days ago.”
“Masturbation?”
He wished he was anywhere but here. He fumbled with his shirt buttons, his hands
shaking. “Not recently.”
“When did you last have an erection, Greg?”
He was thankful for the door between them. “This morning, I guess. When I woke
up.”
“Nervous?”
“Very.”
“No need to be. Just relax. I know this is embarrassing for you, Greg, but it
can’t be avoided if we’re to resolve your little problem. So like you said, the
sooner we start, the better. Ready?”
“Almost.”
“Come through as soon as you’re changed.”